Thu Mar 27, 11:32 AM ET
Reporting by Jim Forsyth in San Antonio; editing by Anna Driver and Eileen O'Grady in Houston and John O'Callaghan
Italics by Jon Stan LamBam
A Texas man is facing charges for selling liquor without a license after he was found peddling bottles of vodka containing dead baby rattlesnakes.
He turned to baby rattlers in vodka only after his first venture failed—two liter bottles of orange soda with dead kittens in them. What was he thinking? Nobody drinks orange soda anymore!
Bob Popplewell, who runs "Bayou Bob's Brazos River Rattlesnake Ranch" tourist attraction west of Fort Worth, was believed to be selling the vodka in the Asian community, where snakes are seen having aphrodisiac properties, state authorities said.
Yes, but you have to vigorously pull on the snake before its properties will rub off on you.
Go to this page on Bayou Bob's website to listen to a real rattler. Does a baby snake's rattler make a noise when it's submerged in vodka? Guess it depends if it's before or after the snake has drowned.
Popplewell faces misdemeanor charges for not having a liquor license but will not be charged over the 10-inch (25-cm) baby snakes in the bottles.
A 10-incher is considered a baby?! Mine’s half that long and it’s full-grown. Well, not at the moment.
"I've been with the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission for 20 years," Sergeant Charlie Cloud said. "This is the most bizarre thing I've been involved in."
Sergeant Cloud continued, “What’s even more bizarre is that some of the baby rattlers were bigger than the mouth of the bottle. I couldn’t figure it out. Kind of like those ships in the bottle. Then one of the state deputies who’d gone to college said they must have survived long enough after being bottled to grow some. Can’t imagine how drunk they got."
In some of East Asia, parts of snakes and other animals are thought to have medicinal qualities and are used to make soups, powders and other preparations. In Vietnam, for example, the serpents are added to bottles of rice whisky and wine.
In China, tiger cub claws are used to make fashionable combs, and baby panda molars are converted into dirty dice.
Authorities confiscated 411 bottles of the vodka, which Popplewell was selling for $23 each.
Twenty-three bucks a pop! Were these baby rattlers swimmingfloating in Grey Goose?!
Popplewell, also the state's largest exporter of live turtles to Asia, declined to comment.
Coincidentally, Asia is the largest importer of dead turtles from Texas. You gotta put holes in the box. Duh!
There's a rumor that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were born at Bayou Bob's ranch. In a mailroom mix-up, instead of going to Asia, they were sent to New York City, where they mutated in the sewer and developed an affinity for pizza. You know the rest of the story. Master Splinter could not be reached for comment.
According to the Field Safety Tips on Bayou Bob's website, when you spot a snake, you should leave it alone because, "So many bite victims have chosen to hit the snake or try to catch it." Makes sense. But sometimes there's no other option. Just ask Jean-Claude Van Damme. In the following clip from his classic movie Hard Target, Jean-Claude saves a sexy lady's life by grabbing a snake from over her shoulder. Then punching it in the head with his bare fist and biting off its rattler with his bare teeth. Perhaps the most romantic gesture ever filmed.
A bevy of officers? Really, a bevy? Did they pursue the van along with a bouquet of bounty hunters? Also, what is a doughnut? I don't know, 'cause I live in America, the country that drinks eleven Miller Lites on Saturday night, and then buys aspirin the morning after at Rite Aid pharmacy, before stopping for breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts.
A Benton County, Iowa, sheriff's deputy spotted the van later in the morning, and eight other officers eventually joined the chase. Authorities finally cornered it in neighboring Tama County.
Dennis further commented, "Absolutely no idea what was in it. The truck could have been carrying anything—glazed, sprinkled, filled, or even those twisty ones. Maybe even the powdered sugar holes. I love those little guys, but they always get all over my uniform. What was your question again? I'm hungry."
But what I love most of all is doing all three at the same time: sitting in front of the computer with the lights off, the faint glow of the screen bathing my hairless chest, with the taste of watermelon in my mouth, the sounds of Kells in my ears, and the cool touch of faux leather on the back of my hairless thighs. And all the while, doing a Google search for pictures of Jean-Claude Van Damme. I get a tingle in my tackle box every time I find one of him without pants. Or undies. His butt cheeks are like two baked hams! I wanna make a sandwich every time I see 'em.
Beautiful twin brunettes walk toward us, seemingly pulled by the gravity of our masculinity. The prettier one, in an innocent tone, asks, "Can we get a ride home with you?"
Sweat beads form on my upper lip and my hands begin to shake as I think to myself, "A vindictive pimp after his call girls? What is this, Risky Business?" Except this guy is twice the size of Joe Pantoliano—and the exact same size as Ivan Drago. Standing statuesque next to me, Van Damme calmly, but firmly, crosses his arms against his chest. A wry smile erupts across his face.
